


Happy Whatever

by ineswrites



Series: ...And a Hydra New Year! [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Affection, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Gift Giving, Humor, M/M, Mistletoe, Tall and smol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-06 07:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites/pseuds/ineswrites
Summary: After the midnight kiss they shared on New Year's Eve, things got awkward, and Brock lied he was tired and wanted to go back to sleep. Jack left, and the next time they met at work, they were back to being best buds like nothing ever happened. Brock has been convinced that Jack wanted to forget about the whole thing, but looking at the mistletoe now, he's not so sure.





	Happy Whatever

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to [this post](https://quillofchoice.tumblr.com/post/179275129869/happy-whatever-kalika999).

Brock opens his first beer and kicks back on the couch. He turns on the TV and scowls. He’s changing channels in search of one that isn't airing a Christmas movie--or a Christmas concert, or Christmas commercials--when the doorbell rings. It must be his pizza.

He heaves himself up and goes straight to the door, not even bothering to put pants on. No one expects people to have pants on in their own fucking homes. He opens the door, searching around for his wallet, and once he looks at the person standing in the entrance, he almost jumps in surprise.

"Jack!" he exclaims, taking in his damp hair and the snowflakes still clinging to his black coat. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too," Jack replies dryly.

“No, I mean--” Brock scratches his eyebrow-- "I thought you were in the air already."

"I booked a later flight," Jack explains. "Actually, I'm on my way to the airport. I just wanted to give you something first." He holds up a small gift bag he's been hiding behind his back. "Merry Christmas."

Brock stares at it. Happy snowmen that are having more fun than snowmen have any right to stare back at him.

“I--” He scratches his eyebrow again. "Shit, Jack. I don't have anything for you."

"It's just a silly little thing." Jack pushes the bag into Brock's chest, forcing him to hold it so it doesn’t fall. "Symbolic, really. Nothing that could be called a real gift."

His rambling makes Brock rise his eyebrows. He only ever rambles when he's drunk--or nervous. He takes a cautious peek inside the bag and--

"Oh." He takes out a single mistletoe branch decorated with a red bow. It looks exactly like the one they kissed under a year ago.

He's strangely speechless. They never talked about that. After the midnight kiss they shared on New Year's Eve, things got awkward, and Brock lied he was tired and wanted to go back to sleep. Jack left, and the next time they met at work, they were back to being best buds like nothing ever happened. Brock has been convinced that Jack wanted to forget about the whole thing, but looking at the mistletoe now, he's not so sure.

"Mom asked me to buy some for her, and they made me think of you. I knew you wouldn't have even a tree up." Jack nods at the living room that bears no traces of Christmas decorations.

Brock looks at the branch some more, then his gaze shifts to Jack, and he offers a mischievous grin. He lowers his arm to hold it above his crotch.

"It's tradition, you know." He raises one eyebrow invitingly.

Jack rolls his eyes. "You're gross."

But he smiles when Brock chuckles at his own little joke, drops his hand, and looks over his shoulder inside the living room. His chandelier has many decorative parts he can hang the mistletoe on as if the designer foresaw Brock would one day need them.

"Hang on," he tells Jack and walks over to where the chandelier is hanging. He stands on his tiptoes and waves his hand in the air, trying to reach the damn thing. He bites his lower lip and, ignoring Jack snorting in the background, he jumps.

Fuck Christmas.

He's so preoccupied with his task and shame over not being tall enough--like it's his fucking fault--he doesn't notice when Jack invites himself inside and joins him in the living room.

"May I?"

He takes the branch from Brock's hand, stretches his ridiculously long body up--seriously, what's the point of being so fucking tall--and easily hooks the mistletoe on one of the chandelier's curly parts.

"There," he says, "much more festive already."

Brock's gaze slides from the branch to Jack, and his face burns even more than it already has, because now they're _standing under the mistletoe_. There’s the kind of intensity in Jack’s eyes he usually watches explosives with when waiting for them to go boom.

Jack likes making things go boom.

And Brock does feel like he's about to explode when Jack twists his fingers into his worn cotton t-shirt and catches his lips with his. Brock rests his hands against Jack's coat that's still cold and damp from the snow, but his mouth is hot, and there's heat pooling inside Brock, so much heat he's convinced his body won't be able to contain it all. But somehow he doesn't explode, and then Jack's pulling away, leaving cool air on Brock's slightly stinging lips. Brock takes in a deep breath, his head swimming.

"You planned this," he says, looking into Jack's eyes that are now crinkled at the corners.

"Might have," Jack admits.

They stare at each other for another moment until Jack clears his throat and steps back, Brock's hands sliding off his chest.

"Well, I better get going if I don't wanna miss my plane. Merry Christmas."

He turns on his heel and walks to the door, Brock following him. He throws one last smile over his shoulder before stepping out onto the corridor. Brock stops in the doorway, watching him walk towards the elevator, press the button and wait. The door slides open--

Brock reaches the elevator before the door fully closes. He blocks it with his bare foot, and as it slides open again, he gets inside. Jack's watching him in surprise.

"What--?"

Brock doesn't let him finish, just like he doesn't let himself hesitate. He pushes Jack up against the wall and crashes their mouths together.

While Jack's kiss was intense, it was also slow--cautious, perhaps. His hold on Brock wasn't too strong, and he left an opening for him to escape. Now, Brock's kiss is outright hungry, and he keeps Jack trapped between the elevator wall and his own body, pulling at his coat as if he wants to take it off, not realizing it's buttoned up. Jack responds fast, grabbing the back of Brock's neck and kissing back with the same kind of hunger that feels as if he's been keeping it buried deep inside for a long time before finally letting it out.

The elevator comes to a stop with a ding, and the door slides open. Brock and Jack break the kiss, but don't pull away, panting into each other's mouths.

"Come with me." Jack must realize how impossible his request is the moment it leaves his mouth because that's when he lets go of Brock. His plane must be leaving in what, three hours?

Brock takes a little step back, just enough to be able to look into Jack's face. "Maybe next year."

Jack's face lights up in hope. "Promise?"

"I said, 'maybe'."

Jack nods in acceptance. He looks at the elevator door that is still open in invitation. Brock suddenly realizes there might be someone staring at them, so he takes a glance as well, but thankfully, the stairwell is empty.

"I really have to go," Jack says.

"Yeah." Brock offers a strained smile and pats him on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas."

Jack returns the smile although his seems to be more genuine. "Merry Christmas."

Brock watches him walk away until the door slides closed again.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [ tumblr ](https://quillofchoice.tumblr.com/)if you aren't already for updates on upcoming fics.


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